Lines on a Page
by Lazerwolf314
Summary: When she is unable to actually face the subject of all her emotions, Nick helps Andy find a way to tell Sam everything she needs to.


_Written as part of the Monthly Challenge over on The Parade forum which I've just started; open to anyone who wants to participate. Please stop by and check it out. Here is the link, simply remove the spaces : www . fanfiction topic/106712/80916092/1/Monthly-Writing-Challenge-Thread#80916583_

_Prompt was: "Writing comes more easily if you have something to say."_

_ -Sholem Asch._

_I hope you enjoy and take the time to stop over at the forum. The challenges are a great way to think up new stories, refine old ideas or just start writing for the first time._

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It started with an off hand comment from Nick over a meal of crappy Chinese and case file overviews.

As they plowing through some Kung Pow Chicken, she had mentioned how much she still had to say to Sam, how much she wished she could say now. Now that she had gotten some space and perspective.

Nick had leveled her a glance over his chopsticks and said simply, "well, you can't actually talk to him. Why don't you just write down all that's stuck inside? It helps." Then he proceeded to drop his gaze and focus intently on rescuing the last scraps of food from the bottom of his cardboard container, leaving her staring, stunned.

The way he had said it, he clearly had had experience. And didn't want to talk about it.

Andy filed that little tidbit of information away and didn't mention it again that evening.

However, as she was going to bed (it was Nick's turn on the couch), her eyes lighted on a spare notebook that she had meant to use for keeping notes on the case, but had forgotten about it in lieu of just adding observations to the case files.

Lifting it from the stack of books on the floor, she sat on the edge of the bed and found a pen.

Pressing the tip to paper, Andy paused for a long moment, all the words she wanted to spew burbling to the surface at once.

After a few seconds more, she simply settled on writing _I miss him._

Then she closed the notebook, set down the pen and turned out the lights.

She fell asleep feeling slightly easier.

.

The next day before she went to sleep, she picked up the notebook again and just wrote how she scared she had felt when Luke had told them they had almost been made.

Even though Sam was not there to talk to her, she could imagine him bringing her into his arms and making her feel safe again.

For the second night in a three month haul, she fell asleep at ease.

.

As another month passed, and then two more, Andy slowly filled that little notebook with all the things she wanted to say, her fears, her angers, her wishes, her hopes.

How she was worried that any day something could slip and Nick and her would never make it home.

How she hated how he had broken the one promise he had ever made to her.

How she wished Sam was in the cover apartment and working this UC at her side.

How she hoped her sudden departure hadn't broken everything between them because still, despite all the pain and anger, Sam had been the best thing that had ever happened to her.

Nick noticed the difference, but didn't comment. He just smiled to himself and dug them both through the grime of the op.

.

When they finally finished, when the operation of arms and human smugglers had been brought down, she took that notebook with her and tucked it into her jacket pocket.

For three days after returning home, that notebook lay tucked away inside her jacket, and not once did she see Sam but for a passing glance as she had been brought into the division in cuffs.

The hurt rivaled that of when he had asked for his keys back.

But she probably had deserved some of it this time around.

So, on the eve of the fourth night on leave and home, she pulled on her jacket, locked her apartment behind her and strode out into the warm night. After nearly forty minutes of walking around in circles, she found herself standing at the steps to his apartment.

And then walking up those steps. And knocking nervously on the door.

He answered a moment later, in rumpled sweat pants and dark t-shirt, hair sticking up every which way and stubble gracing his chin. He looked every bit at ease as he leaned against the door frame without speaking, but his hard eyes spoke volumes.

The emptiness Andy saw was enough for her to take a small, defensive step backwards, before she squared her shoulders and withdrew the notebook.

"I understand if you want nothing to do with me after I left, and I still haven't completely forgiven you for what you did, but you should probably read this. Do with it what you will," she told him, her voice strong.

And she pressed the notebook to his chest and walked away.

He didn't follow her.

Instead, he proceeded inside, sat himself down at the counter and dropped his head in his hands, the notebook tossed absently to the side. His heart thundered heavily in his chest.

When he finally opened the book, the first words jumped out at him, sucking the air from his lungs.

_I miss him._

The notebook never left his hands for the rest of the night.

.

As Andy shuffled her way to the kitchen the following morning, desperate to find some coffee, her doorbell rang.

She stumbled to a halt and stared at the door.

The doorbell rang again.

Cursing and pulling her robe tighter around herself, Andy made her way down the front hallway and yanked open the door. Sam stood there, looking completely disheveled with deep circles under his eyes. He looked like he hadn't slept.

In his right hand, the notebook was clenched beneath white knuckles.

He stared at her, gaze boring deep into her.

They stood at an impasse.

Then he reached out and pulled her into his embrace.

When their lips met, it was as though all the built up emotions and feeling from the past six months exploded into that one kiss.

The words would be saved for later, for now, it was just instinct.


End file.
